


calling me home

by jjjat3am



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: F/F, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 02:14:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9413300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjjat3am/pseuds/jjjat3am
Summary: Clary could do a few more months of longing glances traded across rooms, lingering her touches on Izzy’s body, because she wants, almost desperately, to be close to her. To be closer.But why would she want to?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [captainsarmband](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainsarmband/gifts).



> This is for Laura, who asked me to write them. So I did. Big thanks for canon picking this for me. Love you.

 

 

Compared with all the things they’d been dealing with recently, it’s a fairly mundane mission. Just a demon, threatening and dangerous, but evil in a black-and-white way that’s beginning to feel like a luxury. 

 

So it’s not the mission, but the venue of the hunt that gives Clary pause.

 

“Huh,” she says, “that’s one of my favorite bands.”

 

“Well, you won’t be able to enjoy seeing them play,” Alec says, and the note of reprimand in his voice draws a red hot frisson of anger through her veins. 

 

“Yes, Alec, I know,” she says, instead of rolling her eyes, her voice as bland as she can make it. “There can only be the mission.”

 

She catches Izzy’s eyes across the room, and her conspiratorial smile soothes her ruffled feathers.

 

“Right,” Alec says, seemingly bewildered by her easy agreement. “So, it’s just going to be you and Izzy on this…”

 

Clary does her best to listen to the rest of the briefing with her utmost concentration, but her eyes keep getting drawn to Izzy, sprawled across one of the couches opposite her. She’s been doing this a lot recently, often enough that she’s conscious and even embarrassed of it. 

 

She would be more embarrassed if, over half the time, she hadn’t caught Izzy looking back.

  
  


*

  
  


They meet up a few hours later, at sundown. Their mission parameters are fairly straightforward, but finding the target is going to be harder. They’re dealing with a demon with ensnaring powers, who uses them to convince large groups of Mundanes  to submit to its bidding. There’s only been some property damage and some hospitalizations so far, but the demon has been moving to larger and larger targets.

 

They’ve received a trusted tip that it’s going to be at this rock concert tonight, probably trying to ensnare the crowd. The trick is that the glamour it’s using makes it impossible to track with any of the tech they have, so they’re effectively going in blind.

 

Clary isn’t too worried, honestly. Her and Izzy make a good team.

 

Speaking of Izzy, she looks beautiful. Well, she always looks beautiful. But her outfit, while seemingly a little inappropriate for an outdoor venue where over half the patrons will be drunk and awful, compliments her perfectly. Her makeup is impeccable, her heels are sharp enough to puncture skin, and she looks razor sharp, intimidating in her perfection. Then she catches sight of Clary and smiles, and it lights up her whole face, crinkling in the corners of her eyes. Clary smiles back, hoping it doesn’t show how far gone she for that smile.

 

It’s funny how she used to be intimidated by women like Izzy. How standing next to them in her less dressy clothes would make her feel lesser somehow, unworthy. Not with Izzy, though. When she looks at her now, at her sharpness and her strength, at her outfit layered over her skin like a suit of armor, all Clary feels is pride.

 

Pride that Izzy deems her worthy of her warmest smiles.

 

They walk down the rough gravel road towards where the concert is being held, hidden by the crowds around them. They’re not using their glamours, trying to avoid suspicion. Izzy’s intimidating beauty draws attention, but discourages interaction, and the possessive arm she wraps around Clary’s shoulders serves to discourage everyone that might try to approach them from that angle.

 

That’s the excuse Izzy gives her, anyway.

 

“It’ll keep the creeps away from you,” Izzy says, her fingers drawing circles over the exposed skin of Clary’s shoulders. Clary nods, ducking her head to hide her smile, and her blush.

 

They scout the parameter, stepping near soundlessly over the uneven ground, dodging the overzealous that had started the drinking too early. They find nothing, not even faint traces of any suspicious magic use. 

 

So far, the mission is looking more and more like a bust. She says as much to Izzy and gets another smile.

 

“Well, maybe not entirely a bust,” Izzy says. “Didn’t you say you really liked this band?”

 

They get swept along with the crowd, pushed in front of the stage. It’s hot, almost stifling, and the air smells like sweat and smoke. The lights go out and as the first familiar chords start seeping into the night, Izzy steps so she’s standing behind her.

 

Clary feels her breath ruffling the back of her neck, right before Izzy wraps her arms around her middle, propping her chin on Clary’s shoulder. 

 

“So we don’t get separated,” Izzy whispers into Clary’s ear. She’s close enough that her lips brush the edge of Clary’s earlobe, making her shiver. Izzy seems to feel that, because her arms tighten for a moment, before loosening.

 

Afraid that she’ll let go entirely, Clary covers Izzy’s hands with hers on her middle, lacing their fingers together. Izzy doesn’t say anything, but she steps closer, pressing her front against Clary’s back. 

 

She’s warm, warmer than a normal human should be, and maybe it’s the angelic blood running through her veins, or maybe it’s just her imagination. Clary can smell her perfume, familiar, but dizzying all the same. She relaxes against Izzy, letting her take some of the weight. They sway like that to the music, Izzy’s thumb drawing idle circles on Clary’s stomach, her breath ruffling Clary’s hair with every exhale. 

 

Feeling bold, Clary tilts her head so Izzy’s lips are barely touching her cheek, and she takes the hint, nuzzling against her cheek, pressing soft kisses against Clary’s cheek, drawing closer and closer to-

 

There’s a flash of movement up on the stage. A shadow where there shouldn’t be one. A momentary displacement in the fabric of the world.

 

And then Clary is moving, waving through the crowd, activating the runes on her body as she goes. She can see Izzy from the corner of her eye, doing the same thing, a blurred shadow against the Mundane bodies.

 

“That was my favorite song,” Clary mutters under her breath, and catches the sound of Izzy’s breathless laughter on the wind.

 

They track the demon down to a clearing behind the stage, and after all the trouble, the fight seems almost anticlimactic. Which is not to say it’s easy - just that they don’t feel like they’re in over their heads for once.

 

It’s messy, but her and Izzy are a well-oiled machine, darting in and out of each other’s space with the knowledge gained from regular sparring matches, wearing down the demon, until they can send it back to where it came from.

 

It leaves the clearing suddenly still, except for the sound of the music from the stage, loud and uninterrupted. Clary doubles over to catch her breath, and when she looks up, Izzy is smiling at her.

 

“You good?” Izzy asks, and she doesn’t look perfect anymore. Her dress has a few rips in it, stained by slime and dirt. Her hair is messed up and her makeup smudged, and the smile on her face fades with every second Clary stays quiet. “Clary?”

 

And it’s no doubt that Clary could do a few more months of longing glances traded across rooms, lingering her touches on Izzy’s body, because she wants, almost desperately, to be close to her. To be closer. 

 

Clary can do a few more months of pining over this beautiful, powerful, kind woman, but why would she want to? When she can close the few feet of distance between them and press Izzy up against a tree trunk, admiring the way her silk dress contrasts against the rough bark.

 

She’s waited for over a year, and she can wait some more, but why should she, when she can kiss Izzy like she wants to right now?

 

So she does. 

 

 


End file.
